Who Took the Cookies?
by Ryan Phelan
Summary: Castle tries his hand at writing a children's book. It goes about as well as you'd expect.


**Disclaimer: I do not own **_**Castle**_**. I had absolutely nothing to do with the producing, casting, directing, or writing. I am just a fan paying a long overdue tribute to a great show. Now that the legal boilerplate is out of the way, I present for your reading pleasure…**

**Who Took the Cookies?**

Detective Kate Beckett stood tall and alert, carefully assessing the rouge's gallery around her as the subway zipped through the tunnels of the New York City. To her left was a hairy, heavyset man wearing a wife beater and sweatpants, slouching due to the weight of the several gold chains around his neck. To her right was an older Asian man carrying plastic bags filled with neatly folded clothes. Several black teenagers were gathered by the door talking and laughing as if they were the only people in the world. And four feet in front of her stood a disheveled, nervous looking young man in an NYU hoodie carrying a large backpack. Alarm bells immediately went off inside her head, and she took a closer look; after a minute of intense scrutiny she determined that he was probably worried about school and wasn't about to pull a gun from his backpack and start shooting people. Having profiled everyone in her car, Beckett allowed herself to relax. It lasted exactly thirty seconds; the train hit the next stop, the doors opened to admit a new flood of suspects, and she started her assessments all over again.

A part of her wished she wasn't like this. Sometimes she longed to be just Kate Beckett, an ordinary New Yorker with an ordinary day job. After work she'd go home and relax or meet her friends for drinks, and on Sundays she'd go to her parents' house for dinner so they could drive her crazy with questions about her life. That's how it would be in a perfect world.

But she didn't live in a perfect world. She lived in a world where her mother was dead and the man responsible was untouchable…for now. She had a job that exposed her to a horrific side of human nature that ordinary law-abiding citizens were blissfully unaware of until it showed up on their doorstep. She'd been to countless crime scenes, interviewed countless grieving family members, and confronted countless killers. The demands of the job had inevitably taken a toll on her personal life, but she believed it was just another sacrifice she had to make to be a great detective. To give others the closure she had been denied. And she was just fine with that until she met Richard Castle.

At first she thought he was an irritating man-child who treated murder investigations like a game of _Clue._ Five years later, he was…well, pretty much the same, only now she found his quirks endearing instead of a solid case for justifiable homicide. He saw the world as one big novel with pages that were to be filled in along the way; there were no beginnings or endings, just new chapters. Meeting Castle had undoubtedly started a new chapter in her life, one that just kept getting better since the two of them had become a couple and more recently, engaged.

Beckett hadn't planned on seeing her fiancé that night. She had to work late and he was holed up in his apartment writing. However, twenty minutes ago he'd called and asked her to come over right away, claiming there was something urgent he needed to discuss with her and it couldn't wait until morning. Castle's tone of voice lacked the usual lightheartedness that was always present, even when they were standing over a mutilated corpse; that was reason enough for her to abandon her paperwork and hop the first subway uptown.

The disembodied voice announced Beckett's stop, and the doors slid open; five minutes later she was letting herself in with her key. "Hello?" She called out. "Anyone home?"

"I'm in the study," Castle yelled back. "Have a seat, I'll be right there. Help yourself to some Chinese food if you're hungry."

Beckett glanced at the open containers of congealing vegetables, meats, and noodles sitting on the kitchen counter. A fly was casually strolling around the inside of one of the boxes. "Pass," she replied. "So what's this big thing we need to talk about?"

"I'd rather not yell it to you from another room. Just have a seat and I'll be out in a minute."

Once Beckett had settled her body onto the couch, she tried to settle her thoughts. Castle's tone was still somber, and she racked her brain trying to figure out why. _Okay, when we first got together things were a little awkward, and we had that whole political conspiracy thing to deal with, but we're on solid ground now, right?_ _Yes, of course we are. We're engaged and everything's great…or is it? What if he's getting cold feet? Maybe he figured two marriages were enough and he just wants to play house so he won't lose half his money if we break up. Or maybe he wants me to sign a prenup like I'm some gold-digging bimbo. That jerk! I may not be a time traveler like that loon from a couple of months ago, but I foresee a big argument in our future. I should check my cell…with any luck someone has been brutally murdered and I'll have to leave immediately!_ Beckett pulled out her phone but to her dismay, there were no recent calls. _What, are all of the murderers in New York on vacation or something?_ She thought as her anxiety rose. _Ring, damn you! Ring!_

Beckett heard footsteps approaching and pocketed her phone just as Castle entered the room. "Okay, Rick, what's this all about?" She asked, trying to act as nonchalant as possible as he sat down next to her.

The look on Castle's face told her that she had failed miserably. "Are you okay, Kate?" He asked. "You seem a little…unnerved."

"I'm fine, I just had a long day at the office and…" she paused, noticing that his hands were behind him. "What have you got behind your back?"

Castle's face twisted into an amused grin. "Don't you mean, 'hands where I can see them?'" he smirked. "I don't know, Detective, I'm feeling pretty uncooperative. You might have to strip-search me."

"I'm not in the mood for games, Castle!" Beckett snapped. She had reached her limit and decided to just plow ahead, consequences be damned. "You called me and said that you needed to talk to me right away, so here I am. If you asked me over just to play grabass, tell me now so I can kill you and get back to the mountain of paperwork I abandoned in my rush to get here."

"Whoa, take it easy!" Castle cried, drawing a manuscript from behind his back. "I called you here because I want you to read my new book and tell me what you think."

"You called me here to read your new book? That's it?" Beckett blinked. Her mind began to dredge up all of the places she had ever found a dead body, specifically the ones that had taken a long time to be discovered.

"That's it? _That's it?_ " Castle cried. "I've never let anyone but my editor see my books before they're published! Not my ex-wives, my mother, or even Alexis! What I'm about to say to you is something I haven't said to a woman in twenty-five years…you're my first."

"Oh…um…I really don't know what to say, Rick…" Beckett stammered as the full weight of her lover's words sunk in. Richard Castle, who was as well known for his crazy playboy lifestyle as he was for his novels, was sharing something so personal and intimate that it almost felt like she was talking to an entirely different person.

"You don't have to say anything right now, just take a look. Please?" Castle asked as he offered her the manuscript.

Beckett took it and read the title page. "'Who Took the Cookies?' What kind of title is that for a murder mystery book?"

"The kind that's a children's book and not a murder mystery." Castle replied. And to answer your next question, I decided to write a children's book because I felt I was in a creative slump and it was time to shake things up. Since I wasn't ready to kill off Nikki Heat and start over yet again, I decided to take a break from murder altogether and try something new."

"I see. And your newfound interest in children's literature has nothing to do with the fact that your poker buddy James Patterson just published a new book in his very successful children's lit series?"

"Perish the thought!" Castle exclaimed. "I am very happy for my good friend's success, even if those books are a just a cheap imitation of the far more successful 'Diary of a Wimpy Kid' series. Besides, my target audience skewers a little younger, ages four to six. My book is also intended to be educational as well as entertaining. I present the kids with a fun mystery to solve that helps them develop their reasoning skills."

"Not to mention their name recognition skills," Beckett replied as she examined the title page. "Will your name be as big and colorful on the cover as it is here?"

"Branding is key to a successful product, especially when your audience is young and impressionable," Castle grinned. Then his tone grew serious again. "Getting back on topic, this is the final draft. Will you read it and give me your honest opinion?"

"It would be my pleasure," Beckett replied, smiling warmly. Castle beamed. The two of them stared fondly at each other for a few moments before Kate realized something. "Did you want me to read it right now?"

"Well…yes," Castle replied. "It shouldn't take too long. If you want some privacy you can use my study."

"Actually, if it's okay with you I'd rather just read it at my place. I can't concentrate with you hovering over me."

"I won't hover over you!' Castle huffed. "I swear I will give you all the space you need. Unless there's nothing good on TV, in which case I'll probably drop in on you every five minutes…yeah, okay, go ahead and take it with you. Just promise me you'll take good care of it."

"I solemnly swear to guard it with my life," Beckett replied. "Well, I'd better get going. I have to get to the office early tomorrow to catch up on my paperwork." She stood up and gathered her belongings, tucking the manuscript securely into her bag. Castle walked her to the door and the two shared a goodnight kiss.

"Goodnight, Rick."

"Goodnight, Kate, and goodnight my beautiful new book," Castle replied as he patted Becket's bag. "Hey, do you think this is how Margaret Brown came up with the idea for 'Goodnight Moon?'"

Beckett mentally rolled her eyes. "Yes, I'm sure that's exactly how it happened. See you tomorrow."

"Okay, point taken. Still…10 million copies…" Beckett could see her fiancé getting lost in his thoughts as he shut the door. This time she rolled her eyes for real before heading towards the elevator.

….

Beckett stared at the arrest report in her hands. She'd read three times but had yet to absorb the information. Her eyes kept wandering to her watch; any minute now Castle would appear in the bullpen with a coffee in each hand, a smile full of cheer and a heart full of expectations. She knew that the first thing he would do after exchanging morning pleasantries and handing her coffee was ask her what she thought about his book, and she had no idea what to say.

The story had started out innocently enough. Mom discovers that the plate of chocolate chip cookies she baked for the family is missing. Six-year-old Mikey, horrified at the prospect of going to bed without desert, vows to solve the case. That's when things started to get…

"Good morning Sunshine!" a voice next to her chirped. Startled, Kate whipped her head to the left and saw Castle standing over her. "Whoa, relax Beckett, it's just me! I have your coffee, but maybe you don't need it today."

"What? No, I'm fine. Give it here," Beckett replied. Castle handed it to her and she took a long drink before setting it down. "We've got a suspect in the Ramirez homicide cooling his heels in interview room two. Let's go shake his tree and see what falls out."

"Ah, there's the no-nonsense cop I know and love," Castle grinned. "But first thing's first. What did you think of my book?"

"Um, we can talk about that later. Right now we have a suspect to interrogate." Beckett got up and headed for the interview room, with Castle right on her heels.

"C'mon it will only take a minute," he said.

"Not now, Castle."

"Please?"

"No."

"Pretty please?"

"No!"

"Just summarize it for me. What's the first thing that comes to mind when you think of my book? Three word or less."

"Creepy and wrong," she said without thinking. Immediately realizing her mistake, she stopped and turned to meet her partner's stricken gaze. "I'm joking. It was a joke, Rick."

"No it wasn't. You meant every word," he said, sounding much like a child who had just learned that Santa Claus didn't exist. "What's wrong with my book?"

"We'll discuss it later," Beckett replied. "Right now-"

"Right now there is a man standing before you whose heart is lying in tatters at his feet, shredded by the woman he loves and thought he could trust. The least you could do is tell him why."

"Good grief, don't be such a drama queen. It's just a silly little children's book," once again the words were out before she could stop them, free to wreak havoc on an already bad situation.

And wreak havoc they did. Castle's eyes bulged as if he'd been stabbed in the gut. "A silly little children's book? A silly little children's book?" He cried. "I poured my heart and soul into creating something sweet and endearing and apparently ended up with 'creepy and wrong.'"

"Okay, maybe creepy and wrong was too harsh. It's just that…well, there are some things in the book that don't seem very age appropriate."

"Like what?"

Beckett sighed. There was no getting around it. She had to be straight with him. "Well, your main character-"

"Protagonist. The literary term is protagonist. If you're going to rip apart a sweet innocent story you should at least know the proper terminology," Castle huffed.

Beckett bit back a retort before continuing. "The _protagonist_ is a six-year old boy who's an evil little sociopath. Or is that what you were going for?"

"What? That's ridiculous! Mikey is just a normal little boy trying to solve the mystery of his mom's missing cookies. Where did you get such a perverted idea?"

"Oh I don't know, maybe it was the way he tortured his little sister!"

"She was a suspect and he was interrogating her like any good detective would!" Castle snapped.

"He threw apple juice in her face and twisted the head off her favorite doll!" Beckett exclaimed.

"So he got a little carried away. Kids aren't exactly known for their restraint."

"And what about the squirrel?"

"What about the squirrel? One minute Mikey is interrogating him, the next minute he goes _splat_ when Mikey chases him into the street. It was an accident…or was it? Maybe the real culprit wanted to shut him up. As I mentioned before, this book is supposed to encourage kids to apply their reasoning skills," Castle said defensively.

"Okay, fine, let's just assume the circumstances surrounding the squirrel's death is not the least bit disturbing," Beckett sighed, getting more frustrated by the minute. "How do you explain the part where Mikey eavesdrops on his father's phone conversation?"

"Hey, it's a detective's job to suspect everyone, even his dad."

"His dad was clearly making plans with his mistress! Mikey blackmailed his father into giving him an expensive new video game!"

"If you'll recall Mikey never demanded anything, being the innocent child that he is," Castle snapped. "His father jumped to conclusions and offered to buy it for him."

"I give up!" Beckett exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air. "If you can't see what's wrong with this book, then nothing I can say will make any difference!"

The argument came to an abrupt halt when Captain Gates suddenly appeared between them. "Sorry to interrupt your lover's quarrel, but I need you to investigate a murder…if that's not too much trouble."

"Sorry Chief. We were just on our way to interrogate a suspect," Beckett replied. She quickly walked away before her boss had a chance to reply. Her finely tuned ears told her that Castle was right behind her, and her cop instinct told her that their discussion was far from over.

….

His name was Eduardo Montoya, or Little Eddie as he was known on the street. At the ripe old age of twenty-four, he had a long rap sheet that included DUIs, burglary, and possession with intent to sell. Beckett could feel him undressing her with his eyes as she sat down across from him. She was very familiar with this little game; next he'd try to antagonize her with crude sexual innuendo. She looked forward to wiping the smirk off his face.

"So, Mr. Montoya, where were you at 1:30 a.m. on Thursday morning?" She asked.

"I was givin' it hard to some bitch I met at the club. You kinda remind me of her," He added, sticking out his tongue and wiggling it slightly.

"And does this bitch have a name?" Beckett asked, keeping her tone neutral.

"I guess," Little Eddie shrugged. "I wasn't exactly interested in her name," his eyes traveled down to Beckett's chest.

"Hey, eyes up front pal," Castle snapped.

"Last time I checked, looking wasn't a crime," Little Eddie smirked.

"If you want to look at something, try looking at 25 to life for first-degree murder," Castle snapped.

"You think I'm scared of you, _pretty boy_?" Little Eddie scoffed. "You wouldn't last a minute in my hood."

"Think again, _esse_," Castle shot back. "I may look soft on the outside, but on the inside I am very creepy and wrong."

"All right, Castle, let me handle this," Beckett said.

"Are you sure you're up for it?" Castle huffed. "Normal people like you have no idea what goes on inside the mind of us social deviants. It takes a psycho to catch a psycho."

"I never said psycho!" Beckett replied.

"Oh, come on, _Detective_, he twisted the head off an innocent doll!"

"What are you talking about? I didn't twist nobody's head off!" Little Eddie said.

"Castle, this isn't-"

"And how about the way he chased that poor little creature into traffic? You have to be a special kind of psycho to do that."

"Who told you that?" Little Eddie cried. "I didn't-"

"That's enough, Castle!"

"Oh, it's not enough. Not by a long shot!" Castle snapped. "Let's not forget the other poor soul who got caught in the psycho's evil web! He was a good guy who made one mistake, but that soulless little monster makes him pay and pay until one day…"

"IT WASN'T MY FAULT!" Little Eddie yelled, slamming both hands on the table. Beckett immediately jumped up to subdue him, but Little Eddie didn't move. "The old man told you it was my fault, didn't he? He's lying! Those rich assholes think they can buy their way out of anything, but not this time! NOT THIS TIME! Give me a deal and I'll tell you everything."

Castle and Beckett exchanged glances, and then Beckett turned to Little Eddie. "Tell me what you've got, Mr. Montoya, and I'll see what I can do."

….

"Well hello, darlings," Martha said as Castle and Beckett walked through the front door. "Catch any dastardly villains today?"

"Yes, but not the ones we were looking for," Beckett said. "We set out to solve one murder and ended up solving a cold case."

"Really? Do tell."

"We hauled in a suspect named Little Eddie regarding a shooting, and somehow he got the idea we were talking about a hit and run from three years ago," Castle said. "An eight-year-old girl named Michaela Chatman was killed. The police couldn't find the driver because there weren't any witnesses, or so they thought."

"It turns out Little Eddie not only witnessed the accident, he got the license plate," Beckett said. "The car that hit Michaela was a shiny new Mercedes, and he smelled an opportunity."

"Thanks to the magic of the Internet he tracked down the car's owner, a Mr. James Droogan," Castle continued. "Investment banker, husband and father of three. Little Eddie threatened to go to the cops, and the next thing you know he's getting monthly payments deposited into an account under an assumed name."

"Ryan and Esposito went to Mr. Droogan's townhouse this afternoon, and he broke down and confessed on the spot," Beckett added. "He was so relieved it was finally over he actually thanked them."

"Not all that surprising if you think about it," Castle mused. "An ordinary, law-abiding citizen makes a terrible mistake. Rather than risk losing everything he's worked for his whole life he strikes a deal with the devil, and from that moment on he pays and pays, month after month, year after year. But you can't pay off a guilty conscience, so he waits in tortured silence for that fateful day when a knock on the door will bring his whole house of cards crashing down…"

"Yes, dear, I'm sure that will make a thrilling plot for your next Nikki Heat novel," Martha interrupted, having grown bored with the conversation. "Well, I'm off to my theater group. You kids have a nice night, and congratulations on making the streets of New York a little bit safer for us semi-law-abiding folk." She blew them a kiss before slipping out the door.

"I don't know about you, but I could use a drink," Beckett said. She walked over to the wine rack and selected a bottle. "Can I pour you a glass?" When Castle didn't reply Beckett turned around and saw that he was sitting on the couch, deep in thought. She poured two glasses of wine and brought them over. "Is something wrong, Rick?" She asked as she sat down beside him.

"Huh? Oh, thanks," Castle said as he took the glass from Beckett. "No, nothing's wrong. We closed a cold case and brought closure to a family. That's a good day no matter what anyone says."

"But you're still upset about your children's book, aren't you?" She prodded.

"Well since you brought it up, yes I am," Castle replied. "As you pointed out, it's not exactly suitable for children."

Beckett sighed. "It's been a long day. Can I just apologize and we forget about it?"

"No, listen. You were right. While you were hammering out Little Eddie's deal I called my editor for a second opinion, and it seems there was a misunderstanding. Apparently she thought my children's book was a parodyof a children's book, like 'Go the F**k to Sleep.' She was pretty horrified when I cleared things up."

"I'm sorry Rick, I know I was pretty harsh," Beckett said. "It's still a good story. It just needs a little tweaking, that's all."

Castle stared into his wineglass. "I'm not sure it's that simple. I didn't just fail to write a children's book, I failed spectacularly. I took what should have been an innocent idea and turned it into something grotesque, and everyone could see that except me."

A long silence filled the room. Beckett felt a strong desire to prod her fiancé again, but years of interrogation had taught her that sometimes it was better to sit and wait. Now was one of those times.

Her patience soon paid off and Castle continued his train of thought. "I've been writing about murder and mayhem my entire adult life. Whenever we investigate a murder my mind automatically starts spinning it into a bestselling novel. Everyone involved goes from being a person to being a character in the novel. They cease to be a real person. Lately that's started to bother me."

"And that's why you decided to write a children's book?" Beckett asked.

"I thought it would be a good idea to get out of my head for a while. Write something I could read to my grandchildren one day," Castle replied. "I guess I wanted to prove to myself that I wasn't just some jerk who made money off other people's pain. But we know the answer to that now, don't we?"

"Rick, you know you drive me bananas with all of your crazy theories," Beckett said. "But the way your mind works isn't creepy or wrong at all. It's more like a coping mechanism. It's healthy to put some distance between yourself and the victim. I've seen more than one good cop burn out because they didn't know how to do that."

"I suppose so," Castle replied. "Maybe I'm just feeling a little burned out myself. It's one thing to write about imaginary murder, but to see it up close all the time is…well, it's kind of like tooth decay. The bad stuff eats away at you little by little, and you don't notice it until you wake up one day with a mouth full of rotten teeth. Does that make any sense?"

When Beckett didn't respond, Castle looked up and saw her staring at him with a strange look on her face. "Kate? Are you okay?"

"Oh, sorry. I'm fine. I'm better than fine, actually. I just can't believe you're the same guy that stumbled into my precinct five years ago. Back then I thought you were a shallow, self-absorbed jerk with a Peter Pan complex."

"And now you've come to realize the error of your ways," Castle concluded.

"Hell no! I was spot on," Beckett shot back. "But now…you have no idea the difference you've made at the precinct. And with me. Rick, until you came along I was well on my way to waking up with rotten teeth. Then you showed up and…uh…um…"

"Gave you some toothpaste and floss?"

"What I'm trying to say is that you saved me. I went off the deep end and you were there to pull me back up. You gave me a reason to enjoy life again," Beckett took Castle's hand and squeezed it. "And should the day ever come when you find yourself teetering on the brink of disaster, I'll be there to grab you."

Beckett then gave Castle that warm, loving smile he'd come to adore, and he smiled back, his face beaming with that adorable boyish charm she'd come to love. They kissed before turning their attention back to their wine. After a few minutes of silence Beckett spoke. "So…the night is still young. What do you want to do now?"

"Scoop you up into my arms, take you into the bedroom and ravish you," Castle replied. "And after that, do a little revision work on the not-so-final draft of my book. I think my mistake was not getting any input from someone with a background in hard-boiled detective work that's also kind and compassionate. What do you say?"

Beckett finished her wine and put down the glass. "I say finish your wine, and let's get down to business."

THE END


End file.
